


When Normal Fails

by RedKingKelly



Category: Bleach, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Bleach/OHSHC Crossover, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Honey and Chad bond over cute things, Humor, Ichigo and Haruhi are surprisingly good friends, Inoue enjoys it all too much, Ishida sews to his hearts content, Karakura kids join the Host Club, Tamaki is exasperating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKingKelly/pseuds/RedKingKelly
Summary: After the stress of living through two wars, and many other battles, Ishida Ryuuken thinks that his son and his friends need to take a highly deserved break, although they really should finish their education. Ouran Academy, better known as the 'rich kid's playground' would probably be a good place to get some downtime... (AU Bleach elements, no non-canon pairings)





	1. Fellow Commoners

_‘This is ridiculous,’_ was Kurosaki Ichigo’s first thought as he stood outside the gates of his new school. The gigantic, palatial school was a far cry from Karakura High, which Ichigo was missing desperately right now. He wasn’t even entirely sure how he’d ended up here; Ryūken-jisan had arranged everything, for reasons he hadn’t fully explained. Ichigo thought that maybe even Ishida didn’t understand why his father had chosen Ouran, of all places, for the Karakura teens to complete their last year of high school.

“It’s so pretty!” Next to him, Inoue Orihime’s wide grey eyes were bright with wonder and excitement. Ichigo side-eyed the girl, in her new yellow uniform gown, marveling once again at her ability to be so upbeat about basically everything.

Ishida Uryū, standing on Inoue’s other side, sniffed and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “It’s a playground for the children of the upper echelons of Japanese society. What Ryūken was thinking to send us here…” He trailed off into unimpressed mutters. Ichigo snorted. Ishida was just being stubborn; Ryūken-jisan wasn’t nearly as bad as Ishida continued to make out.

Inoue nudged the bespectacled Quincy playfully. “Don’t be mean, Ishida-kun! It was really nice of Ishida-sensei to get us in here.” There was the tiniest hint of reproach in her voice.

A dull red tint crept up Ishida’s pale neck. Ichigo winced in commiseration, even as he held back a laugh. Being scolded by Inoue, of all people – it had to sting.

“We should get moving.” That was Chad, who until then had been standing silently to Ichigo’s right. “We still have to find our classroom.” The school had already provided them with timetables and such, via Ryūken. Literally everything had been set up for them; all they had to do was show up.

Ichigo nodded. “Let’s go then.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his new uniform (a suit, although not too different from the Karakura one really) and set off for the grand entrance of Ouran High School, his friends falling into place at his sides.

* * *

Ichigo felt like slamming his head into a wall. How big was this damn place? He had less trouble navigating Seireitei, for fucks sake.

It had been a complete coincidence, Ichigo getting separated from his friends. A gaggle of giggling girls had swarmed the hallway while the four of them were trying to find a quiet place to sit and eat their lunch; they’d all quickly jumped out of their path – and out of each other’s sight. Ichigo didn’t know how they’d managed to lose each other so quickly in a hallway of all places, but they had, and now he was lost as well as alone.

Oh well. The others couldn’t have been carried too far off by the crowd; all Ichigo had to do was follow their reiatsu. Terrible as he was at reiatsu-sensing, there was no way he could ever miss his friends’ signatures, especially in such a normal place as Ouran. If he could feel them in Soul Society and in Karakura Town, he could definitely feel them here.

Ichigo wandered lazily through the school, heading for the closest reiatsu signature – Inoue? – and ignoring the curious looks he was receiving from the other students. Though he did wonder why she was going upstairs. Maybe to find someplace for them to eat? It did feel like Chad and Ishida were headed her way as well.

So lost in thought as he meandered his way through his new friggin palace of a high school, Ichigo didn’t even realize that there was someone in front of him until he’d knocked them over. A grunt escaped the small, non-uniformed figure as they hit the ground.

“Shit!” Ichigo immediately knelt down, steadying the person as they went to sit up. “Whoa, whoa, wait a sec, okay? Go slow.”

He winced despite himself when large, bespectacled brown eyes met his own, and he realized that he had just run down a girl.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ichigo asked, one arm still supportively hovering behind the younger girl’s back. “Did you hit your head or anything?”

The girl shook her head, dark brown hair flopping around her face as her hoodie fell back. “I’m fine, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

Guiltily relieved, Ichigo stood up, holding a hand out for the girl to take. He pulled her to her feet, noting how easy it was; she was almost as light as Yuzu. “I’m really sorry about that.” He said, dropping her hand and sheepishly running his own through his hair. “I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

She waved a dismissive hand at him, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

“Right.” Ichigo hovered awkwardly for a moment. “If you’re sure you’re alright…” He turned to go, already trying to figure out where his friend’s reiatsu signatures had moved to.

“Wait!” A small hand grabbed ahold of his sleeve.

Surprised, Ichigo looked down at the blushing girl. She quickly let go of his sleeve, taking a step back to gain some space between them. “I, uh, are you here on scholarship too?” She asked, big brown eyes curious behind her thick glasses.

“Huh? No, not on scholarship,” Ichigo said, finally realizing why the girl wasn’t in uniform; she probably couldn’t afford it. He had heard that Ouran granted one ‘commoner’ student a full ride every year. “My uncle pulled some strings to get me and my friends in here for our last year. Something about a different environment from normal high school.”

The girl snorted. “But you, and your friends too, I guess, you’re all commoners as well?”

“If by commoners you mean we’re not rich as fuck, then yeah, I guess.”

She sighed. “Thank god. I thought I was the only normal person in this this place.”

It was Ichigo’s turn to snort. He hadn’t actually talked to any of the other students here, but they did seem to have an abnormal sort of _flair_ to them. “I’m Kurosaki Ichigo, third year transfer. Nice to meet you.”

The girl smiled slightly, brushing her hands down her baggy pant legs before she offered one for Ichigo to shake. “Fujioka Haruhi, first year scholarship student. Nice to meet you too.”


	2. Creepy Host Kids

Haruhi sent a sideways glance up at her new companion. “You didn’t have to stay with me, Kurosaki-senpai,” she said, feeling slightly bad. “Your friends must be looking for you.”

The orange haired third year shook his head. “It’s fine. Besides, we were looking for somewhere quiet to eat as well. I might as well help you out with the same thing.”

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. For having such an intimidating appearance, he was a pretty nice guy. The real concern on his face after he had knocked her over had been a welcome surprise. “Well, if you’re sure.”

Kurosaki nodded, strolling leisurely beside her. Haruhi wondered if he was putting much effort into keeping her pace; his long legs certainly could have outstripped hers. She smiled, deliberately this time. “Thank you then, Kurosaki-senpai.”

He glanced down at her, and Haruhi just caught the slightly embarrassed look on his face before he turned away. Her smile grew. “It’s nothing, Fujioka,” he was scowling, but his eyes were warm. “Stop talking about it.”

“Hai, hai,” Haruhi agreed playfully. “Oh hey, what about this room? There’s been nobody on this floor for a while, it might be free.” She pointed at the pristine white double doors just ahead, squinting to see the sign above it – was it a music room?

Within the next fifteen minutes, Haruhi would have only one thought: _Dear mother in Heaven – I wish I had never opened that door._

* * *

 

Pushing open the doors that Fujioka had suggested, the absolute last thing that Ichigo expected was to receive a face full of rose petals.

But that was what he got.

Feeling unreasonably apprehensive as he and his new companion properly entered the room (later, he would regret not just slamming it shut right that minute and moving on), scowling and brushing the red petals off of him, Ichigo realized too late that it was not, in fact, unoccupied.

“Welcome!”

Next to him, Ichigo felt Fujioka take a startled step backwards. He couldn’t blame her.

Before them was a group of six boys, all wearing the Ouran uniform, and all somehow displaying a sort of aura that was really pissing Ichigo off. The one who had welcomed them, a blond pretty-boy with the most blinding smile that Ichigo had ever seen, blinked. “Oh? Newcomers?”

Two boys who must have been twins, with hair a paler shade of orange than Ichigo’s, turned up their noses. “They’re boys.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Were they blind? Judging by the fleeting smirk that ran across the megane-kid’s face, he at least could see properly.

The irony.

“Welcome to our Host Club, Honor Student Fujioka Haruhi, and transfer student Kurosaki Ichigo,” the glasses-wearing, black haired boy said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Please excuse the twins’ rudeness.”

Fujioka backed up towards the door. “Host Club?” She questioned. “How do you know my name?” Her hand continued to scrabble for the door handle behind her back. Ichigo watched out of the corner of his eye, having positioned himself between Fujioka and the creepy host kids. Should he be helping her in her obvious desire for escape? He certainly wanted to get the fuck out.

Before Ichigo could make a move though, the blond boy who had first welcomed them was suddenly up in his personal space. “Two of the five commoners who miraculously made it into Ouran Academy this year, despite the tradition of only allowing one; of course we all know your names! Nobody knows much about you though, despite Fujioka Haruhi being in Hikaru and Kaoru’s class.”

Ichigo ignored whatever the twins – who must have been Hikaru and Kaoru – said in reply; he was too busy trying not to punch this kid’s face in. It was obvious that he wasn’t _trying_ to be an asshole, but the casually condescending tone was really pissing Ichigo off. “Oi!” He interrupted whatever the blond boy was about to say next, shoving a palm against his forehead in order to keep him a distance away from them. “Don’t stand so close to us.”

Bright violet eyes blinked confusedly at him from behind his hand. Ichigo just sighed, using a little pressure to make the guy stumble back a couple steps; his friends looked like they were getting a bit antsy about the physical contact. Not that Ichigo would have actually hurt him anyway; he didn’t look like the sturdy type at all.

“What’s this? Are you perhaps in denial?”

Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched. What the hell was this guy going on about? Regrettably, he’d apparently asked the question out loud, and now the blond was looking at him pityingly. “Why, your sexuality of course!”

And before Ichigo could even splutter out his _‘what the fuck’_ , pretty-boy had come swanning back into his personal space, going on about Fujioka being a ‘heroic little kōhai’ who was ‘helping his senpai to come out of his closet’ and several other ridiculous statements that had Ichigo gaping like a fish and Fujioka being backed up even further into the room instead of out the door.

Another blondie came skipping forward just then (this one much smaller, and with a much less annoying face), preventing Ichigo from grabbing Fujioka and making a run for it. “Is it true?” He asked, peering up at Ichigo over his freaking teddy bear. Rabbit. _Thing_. “Is Haru-chan really your hero, Ichi-chan?”

The world seemed to pause. There was a moment of silence that even the flamboyant guy harassing Fujioka didn’t dare break.

And then-

_“WHO’RE YOU CALLING HARU-CHAN?!”_

_“WHO’RE YOU CALLING ICHI-CHAN?!”_

The force of their combined voices sent the kid scurrying back to the other black haired guy in the group. Ichigo felt bad for one fleeting moment – and then the bigger blond, once again, stole his attention. By getting all up in Fujioka’s face. He was speaking some nonsense about who Fujioka’s type was (still apparently under the impression that she was a gay _guy_ ), but all Ichigo could focus on was the uncomfortable look on the younger girl’s face, and the way she was steadily backing away from the obliviously advancing blond.

Were all rich people this stupid? Had Ryūken sent them here as some sort of punishment for something that Ichigo didn’t remember doing?

Well, whatever the reason, Ichigo wasn’t going to just stand there and watch the poor girl be harassed. He stepped forward, intending on putting himself in between Fujioka and the other boy, at the exact same moment said boy reached forward to touch Fujioka’s face; the result was not pretty.

Fujioka, who had leaned back a little further to avoid the stranger’s delicate fingertips, accidentally stumbled into Ichigo, who had just come up behind her. In an effort to not send her to the ground for a second time that day, Ichigo caught the girl before she could fall back, shifting a bit to account for the sudden weight. That tiny, miniscule movement was enough to seal their fate; the wooden stand that Ichigo had only peripherally noticed just behind him wobbled, and the porcelain vase resting on top of it went toppling to the floor with a distinct _smash_.


	3. Eight-Million Yen

_‘This has to be a nightmare,’_ Haruhi thought distantly. _‘Things like this just don’t happen in real life.’_

The mockingly solemn faces of Hikaru and Kaoru told her differently. “We were going to auction that off for eight-million yen.” One of them informed her.

“Do you have eight-million yen to pay us back?” The other asked, faux-innocence grating at Haruhi’s every nerve.

“Eight-million yen?!” Kurosaki demanded, brown eyes blazing. “That shitty vase was worth eight-million yen?!”

Haruhi vehemently agreed. It wasn’t even a pretty vase!

The black-haired boy with glasses (the ‘cool type’ according to the self-proclaimed ‘prince’) gazed at them over his clipboard. “The twins are correct,” he informed them coolly. “It was a valuable item in our upcoming auction. If you do not have the money to compensate, manual labour will do just as well.”

Ma- wha? _Manual labour?!_

The Prince-boy, who was now lounging elegantly in the throne-like chair in the centre of the room, pointed dramatically at her. “Yes! If you do not even have the money to purchase the correct uniform, then how else are you to reimburse us for this?” He continued on, steamrolling over Haruhi’s attempted protests. “It’s obvious! You will pay us with your body, of course!”

That was apparently Kurosaki’s breaking point. Haruhi would swear to her mother’s dearly departed soul that there was an audible _crack_ as he lost all restraint and hurled himself at the blond boy. _“What are you trying to say?!”_ Kurosaki snarled dangerously, holding the host kid by his collar, their faces an inch apart.

Up to this point, there had been an air of amused levity about the other hosts. They hadn’t been taking either the first or third year seriously at all. Now, however, there was a definite chill in the room. They all seemed poised to go on the attack – especially the ‘loli-shota’ holding the stuffed rabbit. “Uh, Kurosaki-senpai,” Haruhi spoke up hesitantly. She didn’t want this getting out of hand. “I don’t think he meant anything, _bad_ , by it. It’s just a saying.” Her cheeks burned when she realised what she was saying. And even more when she realised that Kurosaki was so furiously protective over _her_ , even though they had just met.

“What?” The blond, who had just been hanging limply in the taller boy’s grasp, had such an expression of shock on his pretty face that Haruhi actually felt a little sorry for him. “What do you mean, bad? I was simply suggesting that the two of you work off your debt by becoming dogs of the host clu- uh!” Before he could finish the sentence that was rapidly draining Haruhi of her sympathy for him, Kurosaki shook him (although in a noticeably more gentle fashion).

Dropping the ‘prince’ back onto his throne, Kurosaki swatted the back of that blond head. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” It came out sounding more like a statement than a question.

“Actually, Tamaki is second in our class.” Clipboard-guy said. He moved to lean on _Tamaki’s_ throne, looking extremely unimpressed. The others all moved to surround their leader too, a big bubble of overprotectiveness almost visibly shimmering in the air around them.

“Yeah!” The smaller blond piped up. “Tama-chan is really smart!” His baby face did nothing to mask the ferocious aura that Haruhi could feel emanating from him (likewise, the ‘wild’ one’s lack of expression did not equal lack of presence).

Haruhi wanted to facepalm. From the look on his face, Kurosaki was feeling something similar. If Tamaki was so smart, why was he calling the guy with a hand basically on his throat a _dog_?

However, before anything else could be said, the music room door cracked open. “Hello?” Another orange head peeked through the gap. “Ah! Kurosaki-kun, I found you! Sado-kun, Ishida-kun, he’s in here!” The door opened fully, revealing the three remaining ‘commoner’ students of Ouran High; a very pretty girl with long orange hair, a tall, skinny megane boy, and a hulking dark-skinned boy with eyes shadowed by dark bangs.

One of them, the black-haired boy with glasses who looked unnervingly like clipboard-guy, seemed to take the situation in at a glance. “What have you done now, Kurosaki?” He sighed.

Kurosaki shrugged, moving away from the Host Club at last. Haruhi didn’t even notice that he’d managed to usher her along behind him until they had stopped moving. She smiled. _‘This guy…’_

“I accidentally smashed a shitty, expensive vase, and now this guy wants us to be their slaves or something to pay it off.” He indicated Tamaki, whose vivid eyes had brightened unsettlingly upon seeing the newcomers. The leftover tension seemed to melt away with the presence of Kurosaki’s friends, and Haruhi could not have been more grateful.

Clipboard-guy-lookalike pushed his glasses further up his nose. “We leave you alone for one minute, Kurosaki…”

“Oi!” Kurosaki looked extremely offended.

“Don’t worry, Kurosaki-kun, we’ll help you with your sentence!” The orange-haired girl clapped her hands together, beaming at everybody in the room, and receiving a horrified look in return from her megane-friend. “It’ll be fun!”

Tamaki shot to his feet, hand over his heart and looking absolutely mortified. “My dearest Inoue Orihime-senpai! We of the Ouran High School Host Club could not possibly allow such a lovely lady to sell herself for such a purpose!”

Haruhi barely heard the growl that Kurosaki let out at Tamaki’s unfortunate phrasing and sighed. Did he not learn from the last time? Luckily, clipboard-guy seemed to be the second-in-command of this collection of oddballs, and he intervened before anything else could be said.

“Tamaki is correct; we couldn’t possibly ask it of you, Inoue-senpai. Between the two of them, Fujioka-kun and Kurosaki-senpai have only four-million yen each to recompense; your offer, kind though it was, is unnecessary.”

“Fujioka-kun?” The girl, Inoue, tilted her head questioningly.

Haruhi stepped away from Kurosaki, whose height and presence had apparently been disguising her own. She waved at the gathered third-years. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Large grey eyes blinked at her. “Fujioka- _kun?_ ”

Kurosaki smirked. “Even Inoue can tell, after _two seconds_. Second in the class my ass.”

Clipboard-guy raised his hands amusedly. “They have other things on their minds.” He shrugged.

The twins, who had been watching the proceedings with interest up till then, peered dubiously at the two older boys who were all of a suddenly exchanging knowing looks and acting like they hadn’t been staring death at each other only minutes ago.

“Kyouya-senpai, are you hiding things from us?” They asked suspiciously.

Ah. So, clipboard-guy was named Kyouya. Good to know.

“I’m not hiding anything that you cannot see for yourselves,” Kyouya informed them. “You will find out soon enough.”

Hikaru and Kaoru just turned to each other and shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Ano, did you say that you’re a host club?” Inoue once again reclaimed everybody’s attention, her wide-eyed excitement taking them all by surprise.

Tamaki almost seemed to teleport, with how quickly he managed to situate himself in front of the older girl. “Indeed, I did, Inoue-senpai,” he said, kissing the back of her hand charmingly. “And this host club exists to bring happiness to girls, so we absolutely could not allow you to force yourself into servitude along with your comrades.”

“He’s right, Inoue.” Kurosaki strode forward (somehow still keeping Haruhi protectively at his side with apparently little effort), nudging Tamaki out of his friend’s personal space. He met Inoue’s bright eyes with a warmly bemused expression of his own. “You don’t have to do that for me. And Fujioka doesn’t have to do anything either,” he added, twisting to narrow his eyes at the host boys. “I broke the stupid thing, I’ll pay for it.”

Before Haruhi could protest – because it was certainly just as much her fault as it was his – Inoue spoke up once more. “It’s no trouble, Kurosaki-kun! It’s always fun joining new clubs, right, Ishida-kun? Sado-kun?”

“I don’t mind helping out.”

“I think Kurosaki will be fine on his own.”

Haruhi stifled the laughter that rose in her throat at the opposing answers from Kurosaki’s other friends. She could see Hikaru and Kaoru sniggering as well, and even Kyouya had an amused smile on his face.

Then- “Hime-chan! Does that mean you wanna be a host with us?” The smaller blond came skipping forward, dragging his tall companion along with him. He peered inquiringly up at Inoue, brown eyes sparkling outrageously.

Inoue nodded emphatically. “Un!”

Kyouya’s glasses seemed to flash as he pushed them up his nose. “That… Opens up some considerations. Doesn’t it, Tamaki?”

The blond prince’s eyes were shining with an unholy light. Haruhi was suddenly overcome with unease. _‘Mother… What have I got myself into?’_


	4. How Did We Get Here?

_‘I don’t think this is what Ryūken had in mind when he decided to send us here.’_

They had joined a host club. _He_ had joined a _host club._

Uryū would love to pin it all on Kurosaki and his chaos magnetism, but, unfortunately for him, the Shinigami Daiko had _tried_ to give them all a way out. Which left Uryū with nobody but Inoue Orihime to blame, and that just made him feel extremely uncomfortable, so he tried to avoid thinking about how he got into this situation at all.

Currently, the Quincy was watching Kurosaki try not to punch their club leader, Suou Tamaki, in the face as he swanned about; he was going on extensively about _something_ that Uryū wasn’t actually listening to; he got the feeling that it would aggravate him more than his cousin did. He was also watching Kurosaki’s new friend, Fujioka Haruhi, think deep thoughts, apparently inspired by Suou’s rant. The girl seemed nice enough – she was polite and friendly, and she seemed not to care that the original host members were under the impression that she was male.

Speaking of the original hosts…

Two of them, at least, appeared to be somewhat normal: Morinozuka Takashi and Haninozuka Mitsukuni were getting along splendidly with Sado and Inoue. Uryū wasn’t at all surprised; Sado was obsessed with all things adorable, and the short third year (“Call me Honey!” “Definitely not.” “Mou~ Hani then!” “I refuse.”) definitely counted. Inoue had apparently bonded with him over cake.

The other four- well. Suou was self-explanatory; well-meaning, oblivious, idiot. His shadow, Ōtori Kyouya, was deceptive. He certainly _looked_ normal, but the guy was creepier than Urahara. Uryū had heard him ‘casually’ mentioning his family’s private police force to Kurosaki and Fujioka, ‘subtly’ warning them not to skip out on their debt. Uryū had snorted. As if Kurosaki would do something so dishonest.

And then there were the twins. Hitachiin Kaoru and Hikaru, first years in the same class as Fujioka. The only way Uryū could tell them apart was from their reiatsu, because they had the whole ‘which-twin-am-I’ thing down to an art. Presumably, they weren’t actually the same person in two different bodies, but so far, he had seen nothing to suggest otherwise.

“I’ve got it!” Fujioka’s pleased statement brought Uryū out of his musings with a bump. “You’re _obnoxious._ ”

Uryū snorted at the same time as Kurosaki, both of them watching the blond boy’s frozen face. He looked utterly depressed, to have been shut down in the middle of his ‘this is how the rich do things’ rant, and with such an insult too. Fujioka looked so bemused by Suou’s reaction, it made Uryū want to laugh. Even the boy’s friends were laughing, the twins ribbing him mercilessly.

“Ne, ne, Haru-chan!” Haninozuka bounced over, completely ignoring his crying kōhai in the corner. “Come and have some cake with me and Hime-chan!” He tugged on the younger girl’s hand for emphasis.

“No, thank you Hani-senpai, I don’t really like sweets.” She looked like she was debating something. If it had anything to do with apologising to Suou, Uryū thought she needn’t bother. That idiot had the attention span of a goldfish; he would get over it soon enough.

Haninozuka pouted. “I’ll let you hold Usa-chan~” He held the stuffed pink rabbit out in front of him, peering up at Fujioka enticingly.

Fujioka opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “You know what,” she smiled, taking the rabbit and hugging it to herself. “Usa-chan is pretty cute. I guess I can come sit with you guys.”

Uryū could almost _see_ the light that blinked on behind Haninozuka’s huge brown eyes. He and Kurosaki both snorted again, waving off the curious looks that they garnered from the twins. Kurosaki shuffled closer, muttering quietly, “What’s the bet that Suou will be the last to figure it out?”

“Nobody would be stupid enough to take that bet, Kurosaki. Except maybe Suou himself.”

* * *

 

Not long after, once _actual_ customers of the host club had arrived, Uryū found that he wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as he had feared. All he had to do was chit-chat with a small group of girls, and pour them tea when they wanted it. Not the hardest thing he had ever done.

He, and his friends, had earned a fair bit of attention when people realised they were there as hosts. According to Ōtori, they would be quite the draw card once word had spread. Uryū hadn’t liked the gleam in his fellow megane’s eyes at that, but if it helped to clear Kurosaki’s debt quicker…

“Ne, Ishida-kun, do you think it would be okay to try it?” One of the girls Uryū was sitting with pointed discretely to where Suou was once again making a spectacle of himself. He had sent Fujioka out to do some errands – prompting a dirty look from Kurosaki over his high-handed wording – and the girl had returned with instant coffee; an apparent draw card in itself. Suou and Fujioka had had half the room’s attention in moments.

Uryū refrained from rolling his eyes. “If you would like to taste it, I could always have some on hand next time, instead of tea. It would save you having to wait in line.”

The excited squealing that his offer generated from his ‘customers’ made Uryū wince. He caught Kurosaki smirking over at him, and resisted the urge to throw a teacup at his stupid orange head. It wasn’t like the half-Shinigami had it any better; according to Ōtori, Kurosaki’s delinquent-like appearance made him very appealing to several of the girls here. He supposedly emitted some kind of dangerous ‘bad boy’ vibe that meant he shared a demographic with Morinozuka (the ‘wild type’, going from Suou’s ramblings).

The thought made the corners of Uryū’s lips turn downward. He wasn’t looking forward to hearing whatever Suou had dubbed them inside his little blond head.

* * *

 

Contrary to Ishida, Inoue Orihime was having the time of her life. Joining – or going to – a host club hadn’t been something she’d ever thought about, but now that she was doing it, she was having so much fun! She didn’t have as many customers as the boys – and ‘Fujioka-kun’ – but the ones she did have were very sweet, and Orihime was enjoying chatting with them. Ōtori-kun had said that once word got around that she had joined, more of the male students would come to see her, but even if they didn’t, Orihime was content with her female customers. It reminded her of days back at Karakura High, with Tatsuki-chan, and Chizuru-chan, and Michiru-chan.

At one point though, there was a lull in customers, and Orihime took the time to look around and see how her friends were doing. Ishida-kun seemed to be doing alright; his customers were squealing and giggling happily enough, and he didn’t seem like he was in too much pain, so Orihime grinned and gave him a thumbs up in support. His lip quirked upwards in response.

Moving on, Orihime felt something like delight bubble up inside her chest when she caught sight of Sado-kun in a Serious Discussion with his customers. They all looked so cute, huddled together over their teacups, with such earnest expressions-! It was very endearing, in Orihime’s eyes, and she moved on again, humming softly with satisfaction.

Last, but certainly never least, was Kurosaki-kun. Like Ishida-kun, he didn’t seem to be doing too badly customer wise. He did seem distracted though, and Orihime turned, following the frequent flickering of his eyes to where Fujioka-kun (Orihime made a mental note to ask later, what she would like to be called) had been cornered by most the original host club members. She was just in time to see the Hitachiin twins march Fujioka-kun into a changing room – and immediately be booted back out. She clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape. It turned out to be pointless though, when she caught Kurosaki-kun’s eye just as the boys finally found their footing.

Watching the light on realisation dawn on their faces, combined with the exasperated amusement in Kurosaki-kun’s eyes, Orihime just couldn’t help herself. She burst into laughter, bright gales pouring from her mouth without end.

This was going to be a very good year, she could tell.


	5. The Final Countdown

Much to Haruhi's surprise, the whole host club business wasn't too bad. It was kinda aggravating, being subject to Tamaki-senpai's whimsy, but it was also kinda fun. Watching Kurosaki-senpai and his friends laugh to themselves every time one of the OGs realised that she was a girl provided Haruhi with her own amusement – a full circle of entertainment. She herself didn't really care that they thought she was a guy; gender was a social construct anyway, and at the end of the day, her sex didn't matter. But the mix-up, and the subsequent realisations, was pretty funny.

The only two still to realise were Mori-senpai and Tamaki-senpai; Haruhi could admit to herself that she was looking forward to Tamaki-senpai's reaction. It was bound to be good.

Currently, Haruhi was drinking tea and conversing with three girls in her own year. They were very sweet – despite Haruhi's fears that this whole school was full of ridiculous personalities like those in the host club, everyone else appeared relatively normal.

Relatively: her customers were oddly impressed by Haruhi's account of her own humble domestic capabilities.

And then Tamaki-senpai called her over, ostensibly to show off to his redheaded, royal, return customer his new pity project, but then he went and got caught up gushing over  _something_ Haruhi had done (she was pretty sure she'd only  _smiled_  at Ayanokoji-hime, but Haruhi was already starting to realise that anything could set her blond senpai off).

Haruhi, being spun in circles and protesting to deaf ears, made desperate eye contact with her dark haired senpai, Morinozuka Takashi. He came instantly to her rescue (cementing his position as Haruhi's favourite in doing so), and plucked her straight out of Tamaki-senpai's grasp.

Hanging limply in the air, bewildered and impressed despite herself at Mori-senpai's casual display of strength, Haruhi saw the moment the light flicked on behind his dark eyes. She quirked a smile at him, feeling very conspiratorial. His gaze slid past her, landed on the still-gaping Tamaki-senpai, and then returned to meet her own, full of quiet humour.

He put her down gently, patted her on the head, and returned to his own table where Hani-senpai was waiting.

And then it was down to one.

* * *

Later on, after the whole debacle with Ayanokoji-hime was over with, Haruhi found herself quietly smiling as she stripped off her wet uniform. Tamaki-senpai had been kinda awesome at the end there; even Kurosaki-senpai had given him an approving look.

Kurosaki-senpai and Inoue-senpai had been cool in their own right too: they'd been right behind Tamaki-senpai as he told off the young princess, standing shoulder to shoulder and, by all accounts,  _looming_. Menacingly. Haruhi, even having seen it with her own eyes, was still a little disbelieving.

Inoue-senpai didn't seem like the menacing sort.

But it was nice, Haruhi thought as she started slipping her shirt off, to be surrounded by people who would do that on her behalf.

"Haruhi~ I've got some towels- guh."

Knowing what she would see before she even lifted her eyes, Haruhi repressed a grin. That was the last of them.

"Oi! Suou!"

And that was Kurosaki-senpai's voice. One large hand reached through the curtain and with unerring accuracy, grabbed Tamaki-senpai by the collar and dragged him back out. The second-year didn't struggle, simply staring at Haruhi with wide violet eyes.

She redressed herself – in the female uniform this time – and exited the changing room. Kurosaki-senpai still had a hold of Tamaki-senpai, but his face was more amused than annoyed. When he saw Haruhi, he roughly jostled the younger boy, letting go of his collar. "Apologise, idiot."

Kyouya-senpai and the rest were gathered around as well, watching with entertained faces.

"Wah!" Tamaki-senpai stumbled forward, somehow managing to peek  _up_ at Haruhi through thick blond lashes. "I'm sorry, Haruhi!" He wailed, reaching out to grab her shoulders. "How was I supposed to know that you're a girl?"

"How could you not?" Ishida-senpai and Kurosaki-senpai deadpanned in unison.

Beside them, Sado-senpai nodded sagely.

Haruhi laughed. "It's fine, Tamaki-senpai. You didn't see anything. And I don't mind if you think of me as a boy or a girl. Gender comes second after being a person." She paused, thinking. "Maybe I should start using 'ore'."

Ishida and Kurosaki snorted, again in unison. Inoue-senpai beamed and let out a delighted peal of laughter.

"Still," Haruhi went on, feeling a bit sorry for her pouting senpai. "You were pretty cool earlier, Tamaki-senpai. Thanks for having my back." She smiled widely.

Red spread alarmingly fast across his face.

He scuttled back again, one hand slapped over his mouth. Kyouya-senpai sighed, looking off to the side. "We know where this is going."

The twins shook their heads mockingly. "Oh yeah."

Kurosaki-senpai growled. "He better not do anything weird."

"Eh? Kurosaki, you're capable of noticing this stuff?" Ishida-senpai said, sounding startled.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

While the two third-years devolved into squabbling, Inoue-senpai had joined Tamaki-senpai; the two of them were crouching down, blushing brightly and peeking out through the gaps in their fingers. Honestly, Haruhi thought the two of them looked kinda cute.

Everybody else was laughing (or smirking, in Kyouya-senpai's case), and Haruhi felt a soothing warmth rush through her. This was a strange, random group she'd ended up with, but somehow, she couldn't regret it. Watching the way they were all interacting with each other, Haruhi knew for sure: her life would never be the same.

' _Dear Mother in Heaven – keep an eye on me, please.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Short, I know, but chapters are usually only a little over 1000 words anyway. I try to aim for around there, but sometimes the chapter just finishes itself too quickly. Sorry if it was disappointing for you. Also, that's the last of the continuity! I just wanted to get the lightbulb moments out of the way first, so anything after this could be from episode two or episode ten. There is no plot here, I just wanted to put the Karakura kids with the Ouran gang and have them get into Shenanigans.


End file.
